


This Dark Thing

by nikkithedead



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkithedead/pseuds/nikkithedead
Summary: After the events of the first film, Credence Barebone is left alone. His family is dead or gone, and the only person he feels a connection to is Grindelwald, who is in prison at Macusa Headquarters. Desperate to see him, to be with him, Credence decides to settle for the next best thing: Percival Graves. There is something dark living in Credence, something hungry. And though Percival has no idea of his true interest, it won't be long before he finds out that Credence is not exactly what he seems.





	1. Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> This fic features a darker version of Credence -- not evil, just darker. More manipulative. The fic will follow Credence's relationship with Graves, who has no idea who Credence is or what that he was involved with Grindelwald. I haven't decided if Grindelwald will appear yet, but either way I want to make this clear this is a Credence and Graves fic. Not a Credence and Grindelwald fic. There will be no Credence/Grindelwald, beyond Credence thinking about him. I intend this fic to be short, around four or five chapters. At least that's the plan.

"I am terrified by this dark thing   

That sleeps in me;

All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity."

 

\--Sylvia Plath,  _Elm_

* * *

 

There is a fine line, between love and obsession. Love is supposed to be warm, friendly. Comforting. When you wake in the morning, they’re the first thought on your mind. You want to see the person whom you’re in love with, want to be with them and talk to them. Share your day with them, hear about theirs. 

An obsession is different. Too hot, too burning to be warm and friendly. Painful when it should be comforting, raw and aching instead of safe and sated. Obsessions grow like tumors in the mind, infecting you. You don’t simply want to see them, you crave them in your body as if they were medicine instead of the disease. Obsession hurts, twists and mangles and you ask for more, everyday more because you’ve forgotten how to live without it. 

There is a fine, but well defined line, between love and obsession and Credence Barebone had barreled past that line at top speed. He hadn’t meant to, hadn’t wanted to… but here he was being dragged out of Macusa headquarters by security. He was lucky, he supposed, that they were just throwing him out. That they hadn’t recognized him as the person who’d destroyed several city blocks last November, killed three people and almost exposed the wizarding world. 

That would have been worse. Although he might have preferred that, to what happened. At least they would have executed him quickly. 

Tina Goldstein, on the other hand, who was walking into to the Woolsworth Building just as Credence was being led out, would not be so kind. This was not the first time Credence had tried to sneak into Macusa, although it was one of the few times he’d gotten into the building. Upon taking him from the guards, she waited until they’d disapparated back to her apartment to unleash her fury. 

Credence would admit, he did feel poorly about disappointing Tina. The Goldstein sisters had taken him after his near-death, nursed him back to health and given him a safe place to recover in. And how was he returning their generosity? By trying to break into the place that just only  _ just  _ given Tina her job back, to see the wizard who had manipulated and used him. 

To try and see Grindelwald. 

Sometimes, lying awake at night and staring into the dark of the room around him, Credence would play a game. A game called “Why I should hate Grindelwald.” The list was long. He had tricked Credence into thinking he was someone he was not, manipulated him into doing his bidding and tossed him aside when he thought he couldn’t get anymore use from him. He had punched him in the face. That had hurt (more emotionally than physically. Thanks to Mary-Lou Barebone he had quite a tolerance for pain). 

But more than all of that, the worst thing Grindelwald had done by far… was leave him. As distressed as he was by his betrayal, by the manipulation… part of him knew that he would have eventually forgiven him. Because in the end, hadn’t he come around? Hadn’t he realized that Credence was the one he’d been looking for, the thing he’d been after all this time? Credence had been too upset at the time to really listen to his apology, but now…

Sure, Grindelwald was a mad man. That much was clear. But Credence wasn’t sure he was exactly right in the head himself, either. To be a mad man was one thing. To be unable to get a mad man out of your thoughts, to wish you could be with them… which one of them was  _ truly  _ mad? 

Once, Credence had a family. Yes, his mother had been horrific and he had lived a life of constant fear and misery, but it had still been a family. Now Mary-Lou and Chastity were dead at his hands, and Modesty wouldn’t speak with him. He had no one. The Goldstein sisters, kind as they had been, were not who he belonged with. He knew this. 

Where else did Credence belong then, if not by Grindelwald’s side as he had promised? 

* * *

It was on his fourth attempt to break into Macusa that he finally acknowledged it just wasn’t going to happen. Grindelwald was locked in a high security cell, awaiting transfer to the wizard prison Azkaban. 

Upon accepting the fact that Credence would never see him again, Credence went into fairly deep depression. He barely ate, barely left his bed. He barely showered. It all seemed too much, somehow. What was the point of it, anyways? Get up, eat, go about your day, eat, go back to bed and do it all again the next day. Why did it matter? What did anything matter, when he had nothing to live for?

Tina and Queenie tried to cheer him up, but the couldn’t understand what he was down about in the first place. 

A month passed, before he realized there was still something. Someone out there. Not Grindelwald, but close enough. Someone he had almost forgotten about. 

It was Tina who jogged his memory. She mentioned it in passing, floating the dishes over to the sink to clean themselves after a dinner he’d barely touched. “It’s been so hectic at work these days,” Tina said to Queenie. She said this with the air of complaint but Credence knew better. She lived for her work. “Especially with Percival still out, I have to---” 

Credence didn’t hear the rest.  _ Percival. Percival Graves.  _ Credence had forgotten about him, forgotten about the man whose face Grindelwald had worn. Forgotten there was a  _ real  _ Percival Graves, a flesh and blood man whose life had been stolen. Credence’s heart quickened in a way it hadn’t for a long time. 

Queenie noticed. She turned to him, a frown on her pretty face. “What was that, hun?” She asked, a rag pausing mid air, suspended before it could finish cleaning the pots and pans. 

Credence looked away. “Nothing,” he mumbled. 

Tina raised an eyebrow at her sister. “He got all excited for a second,” Queenie told her. “About Graves, I think.” 

Credence glowered, furious at Queenie’s betrayal. 

Tina didn’t need to be able to read minds to know where Credence’s thoughts were headed. “Credence, I forbid you to bother Percival. He’s been through enough already. He doesn’t need someone trying to use him to get at a piece of Grindelwald.”

Under his breath, Credence murmured that he only wanted to speak to the man. 

“Well, I forbid that too.” Tina said. “Queenie, the shmatte is dripping everywhere….”

The Goldstein sisters resumed cleaning, and Credence went to his bedroom to glower. 

* * *

Sneaking out of his bedroom window had become a natural act for Credence. He did it almost nightly, not with any place to go or anything to do, just because he could. After years of being trapped by Mary-Lou, he had vowed to himself to be trapped no longer. He would go where he wanted and do what he liked, no matter how much Tina forbade it.

This night, however, was different than the others. Because for once, Credence had someplace to go. He’d only been there twice before, with Tina and Queenie both times, but he knew well enough how to get there. 

The entrance to Majec Alley was located by a dumpster in the alley beside a store called  _ Shoeless Joe’s,  _ a name which Credence thought was particularly out of place for a store that sold shoes. Approaching the dumpster, Credence looked around to make sure there wasn’t a no-maj lurking around. Then he opened the lid and climbed inside. He supposed the entrance wasn’t so much  _ by  _ the dumpster, as it was  _ inside of it.  _

Instead of trapped inside a smelly trash receptacle, Credence found himself standing upright at the entrance to Majec Alley.  The Alley was the place where the wizards and witches of New York and the surrounding areas did their shopping, for clothes or groceries or whatever other magical items they needed. It also branched off into three other smaller alley ways, containing more niche products. Herb Alley was an excellent place to get more hard to come by potion ingredients, Ether Alley catered to those interested in more fringe magic like divination and star readings. Last was Skelet Alley, which Tina had told him never to go to. This was where Credence was headed now. 

There was a wide variety of dark magic artifacts that could be procured in Skelet Alley, but this was not what Credence was interested in. What he was interested in was a person, a woman by the name of Diedre. Diedre had vast array of skills that she was happy to share with whomever needed her help - for a price, of course. She could tell fortunes and read minds, predict winning lottery numbers and warn of danger coming. She could reach out with her mind and find someone who was missing, something that put her working with Macusa Aurors more than she would have liked. 

It was in Macusa that Credence had met her. She’d been walking down the hall, two steps in front of her security escort. She’d looked right at him and said “they’re already coming for you kid, don’t turn that corner...” As she’d walked by. 

Credence, confused, had not listened, and had immediately been accosted by security the moment he’d gone around the bend. Later, after Tina finished yelling at him, he’d asked about her. Tina had told him about Diedre’s powers, and how Macusa often turned to her in missing person’s cases. With just a photo she could find someone, pinpoint their exact location right on a map. 

“Diedre is powerful, sure, but she’s not someone you should ever want to deal with. Even Macusa only goes to her when we’re desperate. No one likes stepping foot in Skelet Alley...” Tina had told him. “You have to want to find someone  _ real  _ bad.” 

It was this exact ability that Credence was interested in. 

Credence found Diedre outside the Abel's Apothacary, sniffing at something inside of a jewel green bottle. There was a gentle green smoke wafting out of it, and she was breathing it in deeply.    
  
Credence cleared his throat, announcing his presence.    
  
Diedre inhaled more smoke, and ignored him.    
  
"Um... 'scuse me..." Credence said quietly.    
  
For a moment she continued to act like Credence wasn't there. Then; "If you want something, kid, you have to take it. Don't ask quietly." She looked up at him. Her eyes were glazed over, and Credence thought her irises - brown before - looked green. "Try again,"    
  
Credence frowned. He tried to keep the waiver out of his voice when he spoke again. "I need you to find someone for me. I can pay you."    
  
A laugh croaked out of Diedre's throat. "Pathetic. You can pay me? What do you have that I want?"    
  
Credence reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a pocket Foe-Glass. He'd stolen it from Tina.    
  
Diedre eyed the glass. "What is it?" She asked.    
  
"It's a Foe-glass. It shows you your enemies, let's you watch them and see how near they are to you. The closer they are, the clearer they become." 

He could tell she was interested, but she tried to pretend otherwise. “What good’s that do me? I know my enemies already. And they know to stay away.” 

“Are you sure you know them?  _ All  _ of them?” Credence asked. “Wouldn't you prefer to be sure?” 

Diedre narrowed her eyes. She stared at Credence, then took another sniff of her potion. “Alright kid, you win. Got a map?” Credence did. 

Upon taking the map from Credence, she gave him the green potion to hold. It felt warm in his hands, and smelled sweetly. Diedre pulled out a pin from her pocket. She put this between her teeth. “Pitcher,” She muttered. 

Credence pulled out a folded up picture Graves. It showed him with the other aurors in his department, Tina included. He’d taken this from the mantle in her living room. Diedre looked at the picture, and the map. She put the map against the brick wall of the alleyway, and held the picture over it. Then she took the pin, and stuck it through Graves’ eye. 

“That’s where he is.” She said. “Gimme my stuff.” 

Credence handed her back the potion, as well as the foe glass.

“Been a pleasure doing business with you, kid,” Diedre mumbled, going back to sniffing her potion.  Credence nodded, looking at the picture and map pinned to the brick wall. 

* * *

It took Credence two hours to get to where Graves was, in a rather rough part of town. Once he got to the area pinned on the map, he looked around, as if expecting to see Graves standing in the middle of the street. He looked at the map again. If he was inside a building, this map wouldn’t help him. It just told him the area. 

Cursing, Credence pulled the pin out of the map and stared at the hole left behind. For all this talk of Diedre’s incredible powers, she could have been more specific. 

“Ah-  _ ow! _ ” Credence exclaimed, as the pin he was holding somehow managed to prick his finger. A pool of blood welled up, and Credence felt dizzy. He stared at the blood, and swayed on his feet slightly. His vision swam. 

Blinking, Credence looked up and found his surroundings had changed. Instead of the middle of the empty street, he now found himself inside a speakeasy. The bar was quiet, no music or entertainment was playing for the few patrons Credence could see. Turning around, Credence froze. 

There he was. 

Sitting at the bar, nursing a tumbler of amber liquid, was Percival Graves. Credence’s throat felt dry. Suddenly his plan didn’t seem like such a good one. Would Graves know him, he wondered? He hoped not. For all his planning and scheming, he hadn’t actually planned for what would happen if Graves knew who he was, recognized him and spoke to him. What would he say? Could he claim it was a coincidence that he’d appeared here? Probably not. 

What if Graves saw him and lost his head? Tina said he was in bad mental shape, after being held captive by Grindelwald. If knew who Credence was, who could say if that would trigger something in him, something bad?

He should leave. That would be the sensible, rational thing to do. 

“Hey, kid,” 

Credence turned around. The bartender was speaking to him. 

“You gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna order something?” 

Glancing between the door and the bar stool next to Graves, Credence came to a decision. He sat down. 

The bartender nodded. “What’ll it be?” He asked. 

Credence bit his lip. He barely knew what kind of alcohol no-majs drank, let alone wizards. He tried to think. After dinner sometimes, Queenie and Tina would have a glass of something. He thought he’d heard Queenie called it “Esks.” He asked for that. 

The bartender snorted, waving his wand to motion over a tall glass and a bottle of something blue and shimmery. The bottle poured itself into the the glass, which then slid itself over to Credence. 

The drink was cool and tasted sweet, but Credence couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. It didn’t taste like anything he’d ever had before. 

The bartender was looking at Credence, and Credence realized he was waiting for payment. Credence put his hand on his jacket pocket, knowing he had nothing. “Um… I...” 

“Put it on my tab, Louis,” A voice next to Credence said. It was Graves. 

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” He asked. Graves nodded. “Alright.”

Credence stared at him, wondering why Graves had done that, and what it meant about whether or not he recognized him. He swallowed. “Thank you,” He said quietly. 

Graves shrugged. “You’re welcome,” He said, picking up his own glass. “Cheers,” he said, taking a deep drink from it. He grunted, and put the glass back down forcibly. 

“Cheers,” Credence repeated, taking a drink from his own glass. It was too sweet. 

“First time?” Graves asked, watching Credence smack his lips.

Credence frowned. “In a speakeasy?” He asked. 

A small smile touched Graves’ face. “This isn’t a speakeasy. I mean, I guess it is, but in the same way the no-majs have them. See the no-majs are hiding from the heat. They have prohibition. We’re hiding from the no-majs.”

Credence nodded. He guessed wizards didn’t have prohibition. “It is my first time,” Credence admitted. “In a… a place like this.” He looked down at his drink. “It’s practically my first time anywhere.” He admitted. 

Graves looked him over, eyes picking over Credence’s clothes and up to his face. “And why is that?” He asked. 

“My… mother, she died recently.” _ Because I killed her.  _ He decided to leave that part out. 

“I’m sorry,” Graves said. 

Credence nodded. “She was very controlling. I didn’t get to do a lot of things that I wanted to do.”

“Ah,” Graves said. He looked Credence over once more, and leaned in slightly and spoke quietly. “So now that you’re free, what are you going to do?”

Credence looked at Graves. He remembered the feeling of his hands on his face, holding him gently. Not him… but someone who looked like him. Credence wanted to feel like that again, feel safe and secure, as if he belonged to someone. And Graves was not the one he wanted, but for now, Credence thought he would do. 

“I think..” Credence said, leaning into Graves. “I think I’m going to do whatever I want.”

* * *

Out in the alleyway behind the bar, Percival Graves kissed Credence on the mouth for the first time. The kiss began slowly, and Credence found himself holding onto the lapels of Percival’s jacket. He quickened the kiss, unsure of what he was doing but eager to do more of it.

“Tell me what you want,” Percival murmured, tilting his head to kiss along Credence’s neck. Credence gasped. 

“I want you,” Credence moaned.  _ But not you.  _ “I want all of you.”

His mouth was back on Credence's, kissing him faster this time, deeper. Credence’s knees felt weak and he clung to Percival tighter. He remembered being in the alleyway with Grindelwald. He’d looked just as he had now, but Credence could feel the difference. There was a weakness here, a desire to please. None of Grindelwald’s commanding stature. Percival Graves wanted to know what Credence wanted. Grindelwald would have told him. 

“We should… we should go back to my apartment,” Graves all but panted. Credence could feel a insistent stiffness pressed against his leg. His hands roamed Credence’s body, even as he kept his mouth at bay. “We should… I can take us there.” 

Credence nodded. “Then do it,” He demanded. He pressed his mouth back to Graves’ and bite his bottom lip, suddenly overcome with… something. Something he couldn’t have named, but it was dark and it lived inside of him. It had all along he thought, all of his life. But he had kept it down, suppressed it. Hidden it. 

Whatever it was, whatever he was feeling, it was out now and there was no stopping it. It was a hungry feeling, an ache that begged to be sated. He didn’t know if Graves was what it was after, but he would try for now. What he hungered for he couldn’t have said, didn’t have the words for. But the ache went deeper than words, deeper than the things he knew with his waking mind. He needed this. And for the moment-- perhaps just for the moment-- he needed Graves. 


	2. The One You're With

Together with Graves, Credence apparated into Graves’ apartment. This was only the second wizarding apartment he’d been to, but after being there a few minutes he could tell he already liked it better than Queenie and Tina’s. It was larger than theirs, though Graves had less furniture, less pictures on the wall, less magical items zooming around the place. Credence had liked that about the Goldsteins apartment at first, there always being something magic going on, whether it was food baking magically without the stove, clothing mending on its own or a fire tending itself, but after a while living there it just got to be too much. Graves apartment was clean, quiet in comparison. Credence preferred it immediately. 

“I apologize for the mess,” Graves muttered, waving his wand and sweeping a single brandy glass off the table into the sink. 

“That’s alright,” Credence said, stepping towards him. He lifted his hand to Graves’ face, but Graves flinched away. Credence stilled his hand, surprised, as Graves turned away in embarrassment. “Sorry, I--” 

Graves mumbled that it was fine, but refused to meet Credence’s eyes for a few moments. After several minutes passed, he quietly asked if Credence would like a drink.

Quite frankly, Credence did not want a drink. What he  _ wanted,  _ exactly, was difficult to say. He had no experience with this sort of thing -- meeting a man, going back to his place with him -- so he didn’t precisely know what was supposed to happen next. But he knew it didn’t involve a  _ drink.  _

A picture was forming in Credence’s mind, a picture of the person Graves had become. Tina had mentioned he wasn’t well, that he’d taken leave of work to sort himself out. Credence hadn’t thought much about that, hadn’t really considered what that meant. He knew Grindelwald had kidnapped Graves, held him hostage and done some charm on him to steal his memories. And now he was seeing the aftermath of what had been done. 

Percival Graves was a broken man. Credence could sense it, after years of being so broken and bent himself, he could see it in the man’s eyes, practically smell the hurt and rotting ache on him. Grindlewald had broken him, cracked him in half and let all that he’d been before spill out onto the street. 

This wasn’t what Credence wanted. The broken man before him, eyes downcast and hand trembling as he poured them both a drink, was not who he’d come for. He wanted the man in the alleyway, the strong commanding presence who’d made him feel like he’d finally had a place in the world. The man before him was not that person, quite literally, but he’d thought he would be close enough. This wasn’t close at all. 

Graves must have been that way, at some point. If Grindelwald had taken his life and his memories and tried to impersonate him, he must have been acting similar to how Graves himself would have acted, or risk suspicion. 

“It’s been a while, since I’ve done something like this,” Percival was saying, picking up his glass. His hands had stilled somewhat. “I can’t even remember...” He frowned, as if troubled by this thought. 

Credence nodded, not really hearing him. He needed to think, to calculate. If Percival was broken, he was useless to Credence. He supposed he could leave. Just cut his losses and walk away, go back to the Goldstein’s and call it a night. But then he would be alone again. All by himself, with no one to turn to. 

That wasn’t much of an option at all. It left him with no choice, really. He was going to have to fix Percival Graves. 

Slowly, Credence reached forward and picked up his own glass. He looked down at it, as if contemplating. “I’ve never done anything like this,” He said quietly. He looked up at Percival, and then away again quickly. “I’m sorry if I was… forward, before.” He said, his voice almost a whisper. He needed to undo the eagerness he’d already displayed. “I just… I wanted you to like me.”

Percival looked surprised. “I do like you,” He said, stepping forward. Credence glanced away. “Why don’t we start from the beginning,” He said. “It’s good to meet you, my name is Percival Graves,”

“Credence Bar--” Credence froze, kicking himself for giving his real name. The aurors had been tracking Mary Lou for a while, surely the name Barebone would ring some bells for him. Maybe even his first name, for all the trouble he had caused. “Credence Barnes.” 

Luckily there seemed to be no flicker of recognition behind Graves’ eyes. He extended a hand, which Credence shook, and smiled. Credence timidly smiled back. 

Introductions aside, Percival gestured that they should have a seat at the table. “Why don’t we get to know each other a bit,” He said as he sat down. “Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Taking a seat as well, Credence fiddled with his hands. “There’s not much to tell. I haven’t… I’m quite boring.” 

“You don’t seem boring, Credence,” Percival said, smiling. He seemed calmer now that Credence was acting in a more nervous fashion. Just as Credence had hoped he would. “In fact  I think you’re fascinating.” He took a sip of his drink, then set the glass back down. 

Credence allowed himself a smile, looking down at his own drink, which he’d barely touched. He wanted to stay clear headed. “Not really. I don’t even… I can’t even do any magic,” He admitted. This was true, actually. While he hadn’t seen much sign of the Obscurus since his near death at the train station, he also hadn’t exactly been exhibiting any other magical abilities. Tina had said she would teach him, but she didn’t seem to know where to start. “My family thought I was a squib until just a little while ago,” He continued, adding some colour to his story. “When my Ma died.”

“Really? Then how did you get into the Sightless Sow?” Percival asked. 

Credence shrugged. He supposed it was a result of Diedre’s powers, but he couldn’t exactly tell Graves that. “I don’t know. I knew it was in the area, I’ve heard people talk about it… but I didn’t know how to get there. I was just thinking about it and then suddenly I was there.” 

Percival frowned, and Credence wondered if his story sounded questionable to him. “Strange,” He said. “Most wizards manifest their magic as children. I’ve heard of some latent cases, where they didn’t show any signs of magic until they were teenagers, but never… you’re how old?” 

“Twenty-five,” Credence replied. 

Graves nodded. “And you said it wasn’t until after your mother died that you realized you do have some magic?” He asked. Credence nodded. “Do you think… is it possible she was doing something? A spell of her own, to repress your magic?” 

Credence hadn’t thought of that, but had Mary-Lou been capable of such a thing he was sure it would have been something she’d do. He made his eyes wide. “I… I don’t know...” He said. “She was very controlling…” 

“I guess we’ll never know for sure,” Percival said, moving his glass in a circle, causing the alcohol to swirl inside of it. He stared at Credence, considering. “How do you plan to learn? Most children would go to Ilvermorny when they come into their powers, but the oldest students there are teenagers.” 

Credence shrugged. Beyond Tina, he had no prospects for teachers. 

Graves looked away. “If you wouldn’t mind… I could, I mean...” He looked back. “I could show you.” 

Credence’s eyes lit up. That was more perfect than he could have planned. “You would do that?” He asked. 

Percival nodded. “I have some time,” He said. 

“That would be great,” Credence said, not bothering to disguise how eager he was.  “I’d love that. I’ve been feeling so useless,” He said, adding a dour note to his tone. “Not knowing how to do even a simple spell.”  

“Well, don’t worry,” Graves said, leaning forward. ”You’ll catch onto it easily enough, I’m sure.” 

Credence bit his lip as Graves moved forward, and kissed him gently on the mouth. Credence breathed in deeply, trying to fight the urge to grab him and deepen the kiss, to beg for more or take it himself. He needed to be more controlled than that, but Graves smelled so good and his lips felt so very nice against his own. He felt dizzy. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Percival whispered, kissing the corner of Credence’s mouth. “We can go as slow as you like.” 

But Credence didn’t want to go slow. He wanted to bolt forward like a burst of lightning, to learn everything he could about Graves and the shape of his body and the taste of his skin. He wanted him, in ways he couldn’t even imagine or think of, and he wanted it all now. 

Breathing in deeply, Credence made himself pull back. “Slow sounds good,” He lied. “I just… I’m nervous.”

A hand on his cheek, comforting, caressing. Credence desperately wanted that hand somewhere else. “You don’t need to be nervous,” Percival assured him. “We’ll go slow.” 

He kissed him again, and Credence allowed himself to kiss back, slowly, cautiously. As they kissed, Credence’s mind drifted to Grindelwald. He wondered how a kiss with him would be. Harder, more insistent? Would he start out slow and build the pressure until Credence was begging for more? Credence ached to know, wished he had some way of discovering how Grindelwald would have had him, the things he would have wanted from him. 

But he supposed that if couldn’t be with the one he loved, then he would do his best to love the one he was with.

* * *

 

When Credence went home, having had Graves drop him a few blocks from the Goldstein’s apartment, he thought about his night. It had gone better than he could have hoped for in some ways, and not nearly as well as he wanted, in others. On a positive note, he had plans to see Percival the next day, to start on his magic training. But less positive, all they had done that night was kiss. That empty, clawing feeling in his chest was still there, raging and screaming that it wanted more, needed more. It felt as if it was spreading, down to his stomach and coming up through his throat, until he could taste the darkness upon his tongue. He didn’t know what it wanted, but he knew it would not tolerate not having it for much longer. 

Still, he knew he had made the right choice. Pushing Graves would have only led into a quick dismissal, with no invitation to see him again. The man was a shadow, barely the shape of a proper person anymore.  _ We’ll go slow,  _ he’d said, and though he thought it was for Credence’s benefit, Credence knew it was for his own. He needed slow, and soft and warm, not fast, hard, searing -- the way Credence would have wanted. 

Once, Credence had been soft. A shadow person, like Graves. Fuzzy around the edges, a blurry shape that only resembled a proper human being. But life-- and being so close to death -- had hardened him. He wouldn’t be weak like he once was, wouldn’t cower away from what frightened him and live his life the way others dictated. Not his mother, and not Tina Goldstein. He would live for himself, and only himself. 

And Credence knew, having been so weak for so long, that there was only one way to build up a broken person. You can’t tell them to be strong, can’t goad them into showing something that isn’t there. What you need to do is present someone even weaker than they were, and tell them to take care of that person. Weakness is relative, and the more pathetic the person they care for is, the stronger they’ll seem in comparison. 

Credence knew this, because the only time he’d felt a semblance of strength in his life with Mary-Lou was when Modesty had been taken ill with the flu. It had been a terrible illness, and because Chastity and Mary-Lou were busy running the Second Salemers, it fell to Credence to care for her.

Looking after Modesty gave Credence a sense of purpose, a reason to keep himself going. It even gave him the strength to stand up to his mother in one instance where Modesty needed more medicine that she was too cheap to buy. The weaker Modesty was, the taller Credence had stood. He hadn’t wanted his sister to be sick, and he’d done everything in his power to make her better (and was happy when she recovered) but the point still stood that her weakness had given him a power he’d never had before. For the first time in his life, he was the caregiver. Modesty had been his responsibility and it had strengthened him. 

And now, it was Credence’s turn to do the same for Graves. His weakness would make him strong again, and from that strength Credence would finally sate the hunger in his chest. 


End file.
